


Love Conquers All

by MysticMagik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Ron Weasley, Creature Fic, Dominant Draco Malfoy, Dominant Pansy Parkinson, Dominant Ron Weasley, F/F, F/M, M/M, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Protective Draco, Ron Weasley Bashing, Ron is just really a shit, Submissive Harry Potter, Submissive Hermione Granger, Veela Draco Malfoy, Veela Harry Potter, Veela Mates, Veela Pansy Parkinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:30:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticMagik/pseuds/MysticMagik
Summary: Following Harry's 17th Birthday, his whole life is changed as he discovers the true character of the people around him, including himself.A short veela mates fic. that follows Harry as he tries to navigate his new instincts, old friends and new love.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry’s feet felt like lead as he crept down the hallway from his “bedroom” on the second floor to the stairs. He was careful as he walked down the stairs avoiding the third to the bottom, knowing from experience, that it would creak loud enough for the high heavens to hear him moving around. He had snuck down the last few nights, slowly moving his stuff up to his room and back into his trunk where he could easily escape with it. Tonight, his goal was his Advanced Potionmaking book, the last book in his collection that he would need for the coming year. Following the end of the war, McGonagall had decided to offer all of the seventh years a chance to do their whole year over again since much of their education was disrupted by the battle.

In addition to this being his last year at Hogwarts, it was the year of Harry’s seventeenth birthday making him an adult in the magical community. He could finally be rid of his horrid relatives and be free to live. He had also thought what he was going to do after school, the war had left him with a lot of scars that he wasn’t sure he’d want to have to relive everyday as an Auror. But, since he had never known the wizarding community when it wasn’t at war, he wasn’t really sure what other jobs there would be out there for him to hold. He wanted a chance to help the wizarding world rebuild especially after being the main cause of much of the devastation. He had to pull his mind away from the rabbit hole of despair that surely awaited him if he tried to think of all the damage that he had caused.

He winced as he almost missed a step being deep in thought and had to tense up his muscles at the last second. He stopped for a second to lean on the wall as he could feel the wounds on his back reopen from the tearing, the shirt he was wearing absorbing as much as it could. He knew he had to move quickly before any of the blood dripped on the floor. His uncle had torn apart his back earlier in the day when he had found a spot of mud on the shoes he had demanded Harry clean. Harry winced again, remembering the sting of the metal of the belt buckle as it collided with his spine, the bones sticking out from being severely underfed. 

Finally reaching the small cupboard, he took out his wand that he had taken on his first escapade down the stairs, he unlocked the multitude of locks is uncle had put on the door, reaching inside for his book before closing the door and putting the locks back on. He crept back up the stairs, peering down the long hallway to his uncle’s room before going over to his door, a sigh of relief on his lips. That sigh disappeared as he entered his room to see his uncle sitting on his bed. 

Harry tried to back out of the room, tried shutting the door before his uncle could get to him, but before he could, a foot was placed in the door to stop it from closing and the door was yanked open, pulling Harry into the room with it. He yelped as he collided with the bed frame, hitting his head. He quickly turned around to come face to face with a very angry Uncle Vernon. He clutched his book and his wand close to his chest as his uncle towered over him.

“I bet you thought you were so clever, didn’t you? Sneaking out of your room every night when you thought we were asleep, trying to get back all your freak shit.” Vernon was almost vibrating with how angry he was, his face red and his hands in tightly clenched fists. Harry knew that if he answered now, his punishment would increase ten-fold so he stayed silent, shaking as he tried to press himself as deep into the mattress as he could. “But, I knew. Knew all along what you were up to, I thought I might humor you until you started to get a nice collection, it’s really too bad.” The grin on Uncle Vernon’s face couldn’t be anything but evil as he looked over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned to see what his uncle was so happy about, and felt despair wash through him as he saw that all his rescued objects had been burned. All that was left was a bag of ashes that sat on his bed where his trunk had been. Harry cried out, all his stuff was gone, the only link to any kind of love he had ever had, any kind of family was gone, burned.

Uncle Vernon took advantage of the boy’s despair to grab him by the shoulders and turn him around to face him. He reached down, grabbing Harry’s potions book out of his arms. He opened the book, and right before the eyes of the sobbing savior, tore every page out of its binding, crumpling them up into small paper balls and dropping them at his feet. Once he was satisfied with the state of the book, he reached down for Harry’s wand.

On instinct, Harry pulled away from the older man’s grubby hands. He immediately realized his mistake when a second later his uncles face twisted into a vicious sneer.

 “You think you can get away from me? Think you can save your precious stick from me? Ha!” Vernon grabbed the piece of wood from the trembling boy’s hands, waving it in front of his face tauntingly before snapping the wand in half and throwing the pieces onto the pile forming at his feet. Harry felt the pulse of magic from the breaking wand, felt it hit him full force as all the magic in that wand was thrown out. He cried out in pain, from the pulse of magic and from losing his wand. Without his wand, he couldn’t be a wizard, he was truly nothing now. Uncle Vernon continued cackling above him, roughly pulling Harry to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. “You have no power left you little freak, nothing to defend yourself with and no way to get revenge. Any leverage you held over us has just been destroyed, any fear we had of you is gone now.” Vernon leaned over Harry, bending over to whisper in his ear. “If you thought it was bad before, you are about to enter a whole new world of pain, now we know you won’t hurt us.” Vernon cackled again as he felt the smaller boy start to tremble underneath him. Harry heard the sound of belt being unbuckled as he was turned onto his stomach. He heard the air whistle and the metal belt buckle was brought down on his back. He bit his lip, trying to resist crying out, until he tasted blood on his tongue.

This torture went on for what felt like hours, and it was finished with Harry laying bleeding on his bed and Vernon yelling at him to clean up this whole mess or else. He never needed to finish his threats for Harry to understand how serious the consequences would be if it wasn’t done. He crawled across the blood and ash covered mattress to reach his alarm clock, seeing it was almost midnight. It was almost his seventeenth birthday. Before he had looked forward to his birthday, when he could finally be free, but now he saw that was just a pipe dream. He would never be free of this place, or of these people, it was his fate to suffer forever it seemed. Finally, the clock struck midnight and his thoughts seemed only confirmed when as soon as the day had changed, immense pain shook his body, changing him as he passed out, hoping for the relief of sleep.

While the boy savior was sleeping through his transformation, in a manor in the hills, fated match, had no such luck.

 Draco Malfoy had been having a decent enough summer. The Dark Lord was finally gone, and his father had miraculously stayed out of Azkaban as had his mother. It was nice to have a family again, to feel safe in one’s home again. Early on in the summer his parents had told him about the heritage he would be receiving, passed down from his father to him, a veela. Draco was very excited to become a veela but also very nervous. His father had told him about having a mate, one person gifted to you by Lady Fate to be your perfect match, unless one of the pair couldn’t accept the bond. Then, rejection would eat away at the body of the rejected while the other mate was free to live their life as planned, but they would be unable to have any meaningful relationship with anyone else, ever.

This scared Draco since he was sure, whoever his mate was, was going to reject him. He had spent the rest of the summer until his birthday reading as much as he could about the transformation into a veela and what rejection was like, just so he might be prepared for the inevitable. It was deeply saddening to his father when he told Lucius why he had been asking for more books. He told Draco,

 “Your mate is destined for you, perfect for you in every way, no matter whether you can see it or not. Only a fool would reject their mate, and no one is going to reject you simply because of your past mistakes.” Draco had not been satisfied with his father’s logic.

“But father, what if its someone from school. Or someone from the war, what if they remember all the evil things I’ve done, all the destruction I brought, all the deaths I caused. Oh god, what if I killed someone my mate loved, they would surely reject me for that.” Draco had taken to pacing around the room, a nervous habit that he had never grown out of. His father sighed and rose from his place behind the large desk that took up most of the office that they had been talking in. He walked around and embraced his anxious son in a tight hug, something he didn’t do often. Lucius could smell how distressed his child was becoming and it was filling the room with a putrid smell like sulfur. They stood there for a while, Draco wrapped in his father’s arms, until the horrid smell died away and he felt much calmer. He extracted himself from his father’s arms, smiling up at the older man.

“Thank you, father.” Draco left the room quickly, in a hurry to get back to his reading, leaving his father smiling in the middle of his office before sitting back down behind the desk, the room finally clearing of the distressed smell. Draco made quick work of the maze-like hallways in the manor, back up to the library where he had an extensive collection of books sprawled out across three tables he had pushed together to make a gigantic research table. There was one chair at the head of the table that had a notebook placed in front of it with a small collection of multi-colored pens that he had been using to take notes as he came across new information, each page in the notebook filled with Draco’s small, intricate, script.

He had been trying to take as many notes as possible, he wanted to be as knowledgeable about what he was going to go through as he could be. He also wanted to be able to explain what he was, just in case his mate turned out to be not a veela or didn’t know that much about them he wanted to play it safe. However, as the days folded into one another the reality of what was coming upon him seemed to set in within Draco. And as the days got closer and closer Draco seemed to more and more on edge, he even growled at his father when he had tried to tell him to clean up his nest of books. His father just sighed, shaking his head with a small smile gracing his usually stoic face.

Draco’s birthday finally arrived and it brought with it, a night of excruciating pain, his bones shifting, reforming, changing as his back split open to reveal glorious dark green wings with silver feathers that spread out to reach a span of 18 feet, a clear sign of a dominant veela. Draco cried out as the pain shot through him in waves, completely overwhelming him as he thrashed around trying to contain his emerging beast. After several hours of pain, Draco finally fell victim to the lull of sleep.

The next morning Harry woke up in more pain than he had ever felt before. The blood had dried from the night before and when he tried to sit up, he felt as though there was a huge weight attached to his back making it difficult to sit up. He finally reached for his glasses pulling them up his nose before pulling himself out of the bed, feeling the weight drag across the floor as he moved out to the bathroom. As he flicked on the small light, he gasped as he looked at what had happened to him. His face had changed, softened into a more circular form, more closely resembling a women’s features. He had small silver wings with dark green feathers that looked to span about 8 feet. He panicked, he needed to put his wings away before any of the Dursley’s woke up.

 _Fold, fold or collapse or something please!_ He pleaded with whoever might be listening to help him. His prayers, for once, seemed to be answer as the wings disappeared into his back. He cleaned up his room as quickly as he could, tears streaming down his face as he threw away his book pages, his broken wand pieces, and the ashes of what used to be all his magical items. He quickly took out the bag with the garbage, throwing it outside, bidding his belongings a final goodbye before heading back inside to make breakfast.

Harry was almost done with the pancakes when he heard his uncle coming down the stairs, tensing his shoulders and his uncle entered the kitchen. He flipped the last pancake, putting it on Dudley’s plate before taking Uncle Vernon’s plate over to him. Vernon gave no acknowledgement of Harry’s presence, taking his fork and stabbing the first pancake. Harry turned back around, going to grab Petunia and Dudley’s plates when Vernon barked at him from the table.

“Boy, come over here and **_bring me some coffee right now_**.” Harry wasn’t sure what happened but he felt immediately compelled to do it. He dropped the plates he had been holding and felt his body move without his violation to grab the coffee pot and pour his dumbfounded uncle. “What the hell was that?” His uncle growled at him, making Harry bow his head in submission.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know what came over me.” Harry’s not sure where the sir came from or why it felt like it just belonged in his speech pattern, but it did. Vernon hit harry over the head with his rolled newspaper.

“You better **_pick up those plates_** –.” Before Uncle Vernon could give any more directions Harry immediately turned to doing what his uncle commanded him. His uncle passed, giving Harry a curious look. “ ** _Face me._** ” Uncle Vernon barked out another command, making Harry turn around glass shards in his hands, head bowed once again, in complete submission. Understanding seemed to dawn on Uncle Vernon’s face as he almost realized what had happened to his nephew. “Your freak nature must have done this.” Vernon mused aloud. “Looks like they finally did something useful with all that stupid ‘magic’ junk. This is going to be very fun.” Vernon’s face contoured into a cruel smirk as he rose out his chair, towering over the shrunken boy, filling Harry with a sense that last night, might just be the first of many oncoming nights that ended with him, passed out in pain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get up here. I had all my ideas, just had a bit of trouble getting them all down. Thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy!

The rest of that summer was predictably painful for Harry. As soon as his uncle had discovered his new ability not to refuse an order, he took advantage of this in every way he could. It started off simple, almost too easy. He would order him to start cooking, then tell him to drop something, forcing him to make a mess then beating him for it. He would be ordered to burn himself with hot pans that he had been cooking with, cutting himself on knives he had been using. One time he forced Harry to throw himself out of a window that he had been cleaning. This was horrible but after the war, it was nothing compared to the pain that was manifesting within his mind, so he was able to bit his tongue through most of the summer.

 

That was up until the last week before he was supposed to go back to school, the day that his letter arrived. The day had started off like so many other that summer, with a bang on his cupboard door and a shout to get up before his uncle had to get him up himself. With that, Harry would get up with a silent whimper as his back rubbed against his scratchy mattress, rubbing open his wounds bleeding through his shirt but he knew he had to get up before he had a chance to clean it up. He climbed out of the bed, grabbing his cracked and essentially useless glasses off the shelf above his head, then quietly opened the cupboard and silently as possible creeped out to the kitchen. The normal kitchen routine began, with him starting his “family’s” breakfast on the stove before being forced to burn both his arms and hands, his tears fell of their own violation making his uncle sneer at him, but it didn’t seem to hold the usual amount of bitter satisfaction that it normally held, which should have alarmed Harry but he was too focused on going back to his Orders.

 

It was a little while later when Harry had been bending over to dust on the bottom of the bookshelf in his uncle’s office, when his uncle looked up from the documents on his desk.

 

“ **Come over here** boy.” His uncle dropped into his Ordering voice, clearing space off of his desk and forcing Harry to come over to him. It was then that Harry knew something was wrong, Vernon usually tried to stay as far away from Harry as possible while still keeping him “in check”. Harrys body moved itself over to where his uncle was sitting behind his desk, keeping his eyes on the ground, missing the hungry gleam in Vernon’s eye. “Good boy,” Vernon muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear him. Harry, without his consent, preened at the praise. For some reason he felt good that he had pleased the older man. _What the hell._ Harry’s thoughts were as confused as he was, _Since when do I care about pleasing Uncle Vernon_? He gasped as he was pulled from his thought with a sharp slap on his face, the force twisting his head to the side. “You better **listen to me** boy, or this will be one hundred times worse for you in the end” The words caused a knife to twist inside Harry’s gut, along with a cranial thought he didn’t dare speak. _How much worse can it possibly get_. As if an answer to his question, his uncle started to take off his belt, the familiar clicking of metal warning Harry of what was to come.

 

That day was the first time Vernon took complete advantage of the boy, but it would certainly not be the last or the worst. There were days when Harry would not only be used for his uncle’s perverted pleasure but his uncle would force him to let others use him too. Mostly for Vernon’s gain, whenever he wanted a promotion or a new raise or car or whatever it was. Eventually it just became another thing that Harry had to deal with, but every time it only furthered his submissive nature, breaking off another piece of him.

 

Soon enough, September first rolled around and Harry had to get back to school. Vernon didn’t give him any time to go get new supplies, simply pushing him out the door with one final promise.

 

“When you get back here, you will never see the light of day again.” Then, with one final sneer, the door was slammed in his face. Harry stood on the porch trying to come to grips with what had just happened, silent tears streaking his face as he shakily stood and walked away from the house, starting the long trek to the train station many miles from his home as the sun rose among the auburn sky.

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The sun rose among the auburn sky as Draco sat in the sill of the window in his room, looking across his family’s garden. He hadn’t slept for weeks after his inheritance, and it was beginning to show. His once flowing, snow blonde hair, was now matted, dirty and looked more like snow the dog has peed in one too many times. He tried to sleep, every now and then, he found himself drifting off from pure exhaustion, but whenever he did, the mate bond would open between him and his mate, and all he could feel was pain. What hurt the most was the knowledge that his mate was suffering and he could do nothing to stop it. He couldn’t even figure out who his mate was, and it was causing a spiral of emotions. Many of his friends had been called over to the Manor by his mother in an attempt to pull him out of the slump he was in but he couldn’t even bring himself out of his room to see them.

 

He had been sent quite a few letters from his friends following the failed attempt at a gathering, Blaise, Pansy, and Theo had all reached out to him, regaling their stories from the summer. Blaise and Pansy had both found their mates, the news of which only made Draco sadder, but he was happy for them. They wouldn’t tell him who they were only that they were both Gryffindors, and apparently after finding them they had a lot of apologies to give. Theo was still single, and apparently not grieving about it. He had spent his summer traveling following the end of the war and meeting lots of new people. Their happy stories only served to make Draco wish for his mate more. He wanted to be out there, travelling and spending time with his mate, not just hearing about how awesome it was from his friends.

 

A knock on his door pulled him out of his mind as he turned his head to see his mother entering the room. Narcissa was dismayed to see the state of her son, forced to watch him spiral out of control without being able to help him. In his clearer moments, Draco had explained what had happened and it saddened her to think any child was being forced to endure the pain and suffering that Draco said his mate was being forced to suffer. She crossed the room, walking over piles of her son’s belongings that were scattered across the floor, to pull him into a tight hug and his tears stained her dress. She pulled away from him, meeting his eyes as she scolded him softly.

 

“Draco, dear, you have been moping in your room for weeks now. You need to get up, take a shower and clean up your mess.” She spoke as soft as she could, but she needed her son to get up, she knew the only way that he would get better was if he strived to get better. Draco opened his mouth to protest but she held her hand up to stop him. “I know how much pain you are in but, it will not do you or your mate any good to stay in this state. Now, McGonagall had sent out invitations to return for an eighth year and I have already sent your affirmative response. School starts tomorrow and you appear to be in need of new supplies.” She looked around the room, where to floor was littered with her son’s old, now broken school supplies. Draco looked down guiltily. He had felt so helpless, like he couldn’t do anything to help his mate and he had taken his anger out on his stuff.

 

Draco knew his mother was right, he did need to get up. He needed to get himself together and hopefully his mate will be at this “eighth year” of Hogwarts that his mother had mentioned. That thought brightened him up and he stood shakily, wrapping his arms around his mother in one last hug.

 

“Thank you, mother. I needed a wakeup call.” He whispered into her soft black and white hair, as she held him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I need to take a shower.” She pulled away from him, and placed one last kiss on the top of his forehead before turning and gracefully exiting the room, the door closing with a soft click behind her. Draco took a deep breath, heading for the bathroom, determination in his eyes as he set out to turn himself around.

 

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Harry’s feet hurt and the crack cement was dragging holes in his already wore out sneakers. By the time he reached the train station, there was barely enough time to get to the platform before the train took off, let alone buy any new things meaning he’d have to start the year with nothing. He sighed, feeling the magic ripple around him as he stepped onto platform 9 ¾. The final train whistle was blowing as he finally approached the large cars, signally his last chance to get on the magical train. _Just my luck._ Harry thought, _With the way my lucks been going this summer, wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the last horrible surprise I encounter this year._ He raced ahead, foot leaving the platform as the train pulled away.

 

He quickly hurried up and done the corridors, searching in each compartment for Ron or Hermione. He heard footsteps approaching him from the hallway he was coming out of. He quickly hurried under a bench in the compartment, watching curiously as three people entered the room. Draco and Pansy entered along with a third person holding Pansy’s hand and as the light shifted Harry noticed the other person in the room was Hermione. He held in a gasp as Draco leaned, out of breath on the chair right above Harry.

 

“I’m telling you Pansy, I smelt him, he was here.” The longing and pain in Draco’s voice made Harry ache for him. The feeling caught him off guard, and he decided he could look back on it once he was out of this car. Draco’s normally perfect hair was flown about, and had dark bags under his eyes that made it look like he hadn’t slept in ages. Harry let out a sigh and Draco’s head shot up. “He’s here, I just caught another whiff, he’s scared, I have to find him.” Draco started going around, looking under each bench, using his keen eyesight to spot out his mate. Harry shuffled as quietly as he could, pushing himself back against the back of the bench as much as he could, to avoid Draco’s searching eyes.

 

Draco approached his bench only a few moments later, his rushed search pulling Pansy and Hermione out of their stupor and into action as he approached the bench. He started to lean down when Hermione placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Draco, startled, growled at the witch, causing Pansy to growl at Draco. Pansy pulled Hermione away from Draco, wanting to protect her from the assumed threat.

 

“Draco, **calm down**.” Pansy ordered softly making both Hermione and Harry whimper at her tone of voice. Draco stood away from the bench and bowed his head, not in submission but in acceptance and recognition of Pansy’s order and her mate.

 

“I am sorry Pansy, I have gotten a little carried away I see.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck in shame as Hermione pulled out of her girlfriend’s arms and pulled Draco into a short hug. He accepted the hug in a tender manner that surprised Harry. Draco definitely acted different than Harry remembered. He was kinder, seemed more open-minded and there was something else changed about him that Harry couldn’t place but it seemed to draw him in, made him want to get a closer look. Pansy sighed in the background, trying not to tug her mate out of the arms of the other Slytheirn as she smiled softly at her beautiful mate and her friend.

 

“Draco, I hate to pull you away from this touching moment, but if your mate really is in this train, we should check other places to try to find them.” Pansy did pull Hermione out of Draco’s arms at this point, and Draco sighed as he stood.

 

“I am sure you are right, he must have gone towards the back of the train, I’ll have to check back there. You guys should go and have some time to yourselves before we get to Hogwarts.” Pansy nodded at Draco, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before whispering something in his ear, and pulling her mate off towards the sitting carriage near the front of the train. Draco crossed the room in two quick strides, casting one last forlorn look around the room, before pulling open the door, his _Malfoy_ mask set back in place, as he strode off down to search for what was right under his nose.

 

Harry let out his breath as Draco exited the train car, finally able to crawl out of the cramped space he had jammed himself into. He tried as best he could to brush himself off before sitting down on the bench he had been hiding under. He was thinking back on what had just happened, and about Draco’s strange language. _What was a mate? And why was Draco so fixated on finding his? Could it be some girl he has a crush on?_ At that thought, Harry felt a flash of pain in his chest although he couldn’t identify why. _And why was Pansy and Hermione acting so close, like they were dating or something. That must be it._ Harry thought, especially seeing how protective Pansy was of Hermione. The thought of Hermione abandoning him for Pansy stung a little as well, although that would explain why she hadn’t written to him at all during the summer. Pushing these thoughts aside he rose and walked out of the car, making sure to go the opposite direction of Draco, as to avoid any confrontations or any more of those weird flashes of pain that seemed to follow Draco. He shook his head, trying to clear away his thoughts as he walked through the train cars, looking around in every car for his ginger headed friend.

 

He at last found Ron, sitting alone, muttering to himself in the car nearest the coal car in the train. Harry slowly and carefully opened the door, trying not to disturb his oldest friend. Ron seemed startled anyway and a brief glare glanced his face before he settled into a face wide smile, almost making Harry doubt if he had seen the glare at all, except for the glint that remained in his eyes that reminded Harry, scarily of his uncle.

 

“Hey mate! How was your summer?” The fake joy in Ron’s voice made Harry’s stomach turn and when Ron called him mate, the pang of pain was back, just like when it was Draco was around. Ron didn’t scoot over, so Harry had to squeeze past him to sit on the seat across from him. They sat awkwardly in silence for a while, until Harry remembered that Ron had asked him a question and quickly clearing his throat before answering the question.

 

“Oh, um, it was fine I suppose. Something interesting happened to me this summer I guess.” Harry looked down at his hands at the end of his explanation. Ron looked really bored as he looked up at Harry, Harry instantly felt shame blossom in his chest at the uninterested look on his face. The look faded as he noticed that Harry was staring, and he regained the look of fake happiness.

 

“Oh really!” The fake excitement was back and this time it really set Harry on edge, but he just figured his friend might be having a rough day or maybe had a rough summer since Hermione seemed to have broken up with him, so Harry didn’t think too much into it. “What happened?” Harry began explaining about his weird birthday, his uncles’ weird behavior, and lastly his weird urges for following his uncles’ directions. When he got to the end of his explanation he raised his eyes from his hands, slight blush on his cheeks, he saw his friends’ eyes had clouded over with a weird feeling that Harry couldn’t determine. Ron finally looked interested in what Harry was saying, and he tilted head to the left as Harry was talking proving to Harry that he really was invested in what Harry was saying.

 

“Wait, what were you saying about your new instincts.” Harry was a little confused as to what Ron’s fixation with his new instincts, but he responded anyway, retelling Ron about how he felt the need to answer his uncles every command and how he always wanted his uncles’ approval. When he was done he looked up at his friend, hoping he might have an explanation for what might be happening to him. Ron was looking, once again at Harry with the weird look back in his eyes, but for once he looked as though he knew what Harry was going through.

 

“Do you think you might know what happened to me, I just mean that you might know what since you have, you know, been raised in the wizarding world and probably know more about this than I do.” Harry was stammering over his words as he tried to plead with his more magically inclined friend for guidance. Ron looked unusually thoughtful for a minute before sitting forward to look Harry in the eyes as he spit out his answer for the smaller boy across from him.

 

“I do believe that I know what has happened to you. You seem to have come into a creature inheritance, Harry. I don’t know what kind you are, but judging by what you said it also sounds like you will be a submissive.” Harry looked confused, he had never heard of gaining an inheritance or what being a submissive meant.

 

“What does that mean?” Harry voiced his question quietly, the annoyed glare Ron sent him, causing him to shrink back in his chair and swallow any further questions.

 

“It means that someone in your family must be descended from a horrible creature like a werewolf, or god forbid a veela.” Harry was only further confused by Ron’s description. He didn’t know that much about the magical world outside of Hogwarts but when he had meet Fleur she seemed like a nice enough lady, what was so wrong with veelas? Ron seemed to sense Harry’s confusion and continued on in a drawl that reminded Harry of Snape. “Veelas are terrible creatures that believe in the foolish idea of mates, their ‘one true love’ or such shit like that. They use their powers to trap unwilling participants in their love then make them stay there forever, telling them some lies about mates that some wizards, like my weak brother, are stupid enough to believe.” From how Ron was describing veelas, Harry really hoped he wasn’t one, although when Ron said mates, Harry was thrown back to his earlier run in with Draco and how Draco had seemed in some kind of flurry to find someone called his mate. The allure sounded familiar and Harry thought he must have read that in a book somewhere. Thinking back earlier to the train car, he thought about Hermione’s weird companionship with Pansy and realized that Pansy must have tricked her too.

 

“Whatever kind of creature you are isn’t as important as your role will be. There are only two types of people in this world, dominant and submissives. I am a dominant, one of the only few strong people left in my family. I do not have creature blood apparently but, I do have many dominant personality traits so my mother said I should just act like a dominant.” Harry thought that was strange, why act like something you aren’t but, he figured he didn’t have any room to tell Ron how to live his life since he had never heard of any of this before. “Based on what you described you must be a submissive.” When Ron said that he seemed to looking down his nose at Harry. “Submissives are naturally weak, can only fight when they are following orders from their dominant and must always ask their dominant before doing anything. They are basically slaves for the more powerful, clearly much better, dominants. They will do anything a dominant asks them to and will be unable to deny anything their dominant says. They are always seeking approval and are always running after their dominant like little lost puppies. They are truly only good for one thing and that’s in the bedroom, otherwise they are pretty useless.” Ron finished his explanation, with his nose in the air and a sneer clearly plastered on his face.

 

Harry was afraid. If he was submissive does that mean some dominant could just order him to do something and he would have to do? That would certainly explain his weird behavior at his uncles. Harry looked down at his hands as he tried to process everything that he had just been told. He figured he might go try to find Hermione, maybe she could help him sort through all the things he’d just been told. He could also warn her about Pansy and the allure Ron had talked about. HE rose out of his seat, walking past Ron and reaching out for the door to leave when Ron called out.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Harry looked back towards the door and pointed, seemingly incapable of words. “Did I not just tell you, you are a submissive and I am a dominant?” Harry actually remembered Ron saying he was just acting like a dominant, but that didn’t seem to matter to Ron. So, to save face, Harry nodded. “Did I also not just tell you that submissives ask dominants before they do anything.” Harry nodded again, still confused about what Ron was trying to say. “So, then why are you trying to go somewhere without asking my permission first?” Harry wanted to say that just because he was a submissive that he was Ron’s servant now, but the pain of Ron’s scolding, hurt him for some reason he still didn’t understand. It must be his submissiveness. He truly was weak like Ron said. He bowed his head to the dominant before him, his brain and body seemed to be on autopilot, ready to obey any command given to him. “That’s better.” Ron said, a hint of malice in his voice that once again, reminded Harry shockingly of his Uncle Vernon. “Now, **come here.** ” The command rushed over Harry and he walked back over, standing in front of Ron. “Now, **kneel**.” Harry instantly dropped to his knees and looked up at Ron’s, hate filled eyes, awaiting his next command. “Well this is certainly going to be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all for reading! This is just the first chapter of (hopefully) many to come. Stay tuned! ;)  
> Have a wonderful day!


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